A Loss of Innocence: Redux
by recon228
Summary: Kim’s father has been kidnapped and the FBI has taken control of the investigation. Despite their warnings Kim decides to carry out her own investigation and soon finds that this enemy is like nothing Team Possible has ever dealt with.
1. Chapter 1

**A Loss of Innocence: Redux  
****_By: recon228_**

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Synopsis:**_ Kim's father has been kidnapped and the FBI has taken control of the investigation. Despite their warnings, Kim decides to carry out her own investigation and soon finds that this enemy is like nothing Team Possible has ever experienced. With help from some unusual sources, Kim and Ron set out to rescue her father. What she doesn't know, however, is that this mission will eventually force her to choose between her father's safety and her own moral beliefs.**_

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Disclaimer:_** Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, and all related characters are property of Disney.**_

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_** **

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Chapter One

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_"Then, of course, came the mopping-up period, when the last of the non-White bands were hunted down and exterminated, followed by the final purge of undesirable racial elements among the remaining White population ... But it was in the year 1999, according to the chronology of the Old Era — just 110 years after the birth of the Great One — that the dream of a White world finally became a certainty."_** - The Turner Diaries**

– **_Middleton_****_ High School_** –  
(_Middleton__, Colorado__ – June 2 16:08_)

Eighteen-year-old Kim Possible let out a frustrated groan as she yanked her locker door open and shoved a small bundle of textbooks into her backpack. She was so preoccupied, she didn't even notice her best friend, Ron Stoppable, standing next to her until she slammed her locker shut and nearly bumped right into him.

"Hey, KP, what's up?" asked Ron, noticing his friend's tweaked attitude.

It was more of a rhetorical question than anything else. Considering they had both just finished cheer practice, Ron already had a pretty good idea what, or rather _who_, was on his friend's mind.

"It's Bonnie again," Kim replied, flinging her backpack over her shoulder. "Did you see how she dropped the entire pyramid back there? That was _so_ on purpose!"

"Well she _did_ have to take a phone call," Ron said sarcastically.

"I just don't understand how someone can be so… _so_…" Kim sighed and shook her head. "Oh, never mind. I kinda feel like getting something to eat, you up for Bueno Nacho on the way home?"

"Ooh, I don't know," Ron replied hesitantly. "I'd better check with my Naco Wingman before I make a commitment like that." He opened the flap of his cargo pocket and pulled out Rufus, his pet naked molerat. "What do you think about a trip to Bueno Nacho, buddy?"

The small pink rodent pretended to think it over for a few moments before raising his paw and cheering, "Naco!"

Placing his pet back into his pocket, Ron grinned and gave Kim a thumbs-up. "That's a big ten-four on Bueno Nacho, KP."

---

They were just leaving the school when the familiar beep of the Kimmunicator sounded from inside Kim's backpack. She snatched it out of her pack and turned it on to find Wade staring back at her on the other end.

No matter how rough the situation was, Wade always seemed to be in an upbeat mood. In the three years that the thirteen-year-old super genius had been running her website, Kim had only seen him upset once; and that was when his entire computer system had gotten fried by a virus.

As soon as she saw the grim expression on the boy's face, Kim's cheerful attitude disappeared.

"Wade, what's wrong?"

Hearing Kim's sudden change in tone, Ron stopped walking and looked back apprehensively at his friend.

"Kim, you need to get home right now," said Wade. His urgent tone sent a sudden chill down both teens' spines. "Your mom just called. She says something's happened to your dad."

The chill suddenly turned into a cold sweat for Kim as she found herself thinking the worst. Her dad was a rocket scientist after all, and it was fairly common for him to work with volatile and hazardous materials. She had always known there was a slight chance that something could go wrong, but she had never made a point of thinking about it before that moment.

Seeing the shocked expression on her face, Ron decided to take the initiative.

"What do you mean something's happened to her dad?" he asked, peering down at the Kimmunicator in Kim's hands. "_What_ happened? Is he alright?"

With a pained look on his face, Wade shrugged his shoulders and shook his head slowly.

"I don't know, Ron, her mom was really upset and I didn't want to pry too much info out of her."

Ron looked over at Kim, who appeared to be in a state of shock.

"Her family's waiting for her at home," Wade reminded them. "You should drive her home, Ron."

With that, Wade cut the transmission, leaving the two teens in shocked silence.

"I-I always knew his job was dangerous," Kim said, on the verge of tears, "b-but I never… I _never_ thought anything would actually happen–"

"Don't even think like that, Kim!" Ron interrupted. "I'm sure it's nothing bad." He tried to sound convincing, but after seeing Wade's grim expression, his imagination wasn't much brighter than Kim's.

"Y-yeah, you're probably right," Kim replied, giving her friend a weak smile.

Ron could see from the look in her eyes, however, that she was still expecting the worst.

"He probably just hurt his leg again coaching the Tweebs," he reassured her as they climbed onto his scooter. "The sooner we get you home, the sooner you'll see that this is nothing to get upset about."

He had no idea how wrong he was…

---

Ten minutes later Ron turned his small gas-powered bike onto Kim's street. As they rounded the corner, he glanced back to check on Kim and found that she had a look of absolute terror on her face. Looking forward again, he observed a sight that caused his stomach to tighten…

The normally quiet street in front of the Possible residence was packed with police and rescue vehicles. It was an overwhelming scene: there were two black-and-white Middleton Police Department cruisers pulled up in her driveway, a large bus-like vehicle with the words _Mobile Incident Command Unit_ printed on it sitting with its right side parked on her lawn, and two unmarked sedans––which pretty much screamed '_police car_'––parked along the curb behind the command unit. While one of the sedans had standard _Colorado_ license plates, the other vehicle's plates had _US Government_ written across the top of them. There was also an ambulance parked across the street, though the paramedics were nowhere to be seen.

Ron hadn't even stopped the bike before Kim jumped off onto her front lawn and ran up toward the door. He parked the scooter and followed, reaching her just as a uniformed police officer stopped her on the front porch.

"Sorry ma'am, family only beyond this point," the officer calmly stated.

"B-but I _am_ family!" Kim all but screamed at the cop. "My name's Kim Possible, I-I was told that my dad…"

Kim's voice trailed off as the officer looked over his shoulder for approval from someone inside. Whoever he was looking at seemed to give him approval, because he quickly moved aside and let her pass.

As Ron followed after her, the officer blocked his path.

"And you are?" he inquired suspiciously.

"It's ok, he's with me!" Kim shouted back.

The officer once again moved aside, though with slightly more reluctance than he had for Kim.

---

– **_Possible Residence_** –

The scene inside the house was just as crowded and hectic as it was outside. There were people everywhere: some of them in uniform, and some in regular clothes. The first thing Kim saw when she entered the front hallway was the destruction in her living room.

The couch was lying on its back next to the coffee table, which had been knocked over and broken. The TV was also destroyed and there was a large blackened circle in the center of the carpet where it looked like something had been burned. The entire room was roped off with yellow tape, which had the words _Crime Scene Do Not Cross_ repeated over-and-over.

Beyond the rope-line, two crime lab technicians in white protective jumpsuits were slowly moving around the room. As Kim watched in captivated horror, one of the technicians snapped a photograph of an object lying in the center of the burned area before the other one picked it up and placed it into a small clear-plastic bag labeled _Evidence_.

Seeing no one else in the living room, Kim continued down the hall into the kitchen where she found her mom sitting at the table. She was surrounded by two paramedics and holding a blood-soaked bandage against the right side of her head while a detective stood over her, jotting notes onto a small leather notepad.

"Mom, what happened?" Kim gasped. She ran up to her mother and knelt down beside her. "Oh my god, are you alright? What happened here? Where's Daddy?"

Dr. Ann Possible looked over at her daughter and fought to hold back her tears.

"Oh, Kimmie… t-t-they… they took him away!" she whimpered.

"W-who took him away? Is he alright?" Kim choked out, herself on the verge of tears. Her mom was a skilled neurosurgeon; she wasn't the type of woman who easily lost control of her emotions. Seeing her upset was almost too much for Kim to handle.

Andrea shook her head and grabbed a tissue offered by one of the paramedics.

"I-I don't know! It all happened so fast and… and…" Before she could finish her sentence she finally broke down into uncontrollable sobs.

Before Kim could further comfort her crying mother, someone behind her cleared their throat. Turning around, Kim discovered a man in a dark business suit standing patiently behind her near the entryway. He looked to be just under six feet tall, and had short dark-brown hair that was neatly combed forward. She assumed he was a detective, though from his conservative appearance he looked more like an investment banker or a salesman than a cop.

Without waiting for a formal response from her, the man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a leather billfold. He opened the billfold, revealing a small gold badge and a set of credentials.

"I'm Special Agent Pollard," he announced. "I'm with the FBI's Kidnapping Task Force."

"Kidnapping Task Force?" Ron called out from the kitchen doorway. "What's the FBI doing here?"

He adopted a look of confusion as everyone in the room, including Mrs. Possible, shot him an angry glare.

"What?" the teen asked defensively.

Poking out of Ron's pocket, Rufus slapped his forehead and shook his head before mumbling something unintelligible.

"Miss Possible," Special Agent Pollard continued, "would it be alright if I speak to you in private?"

Kim stood up, took a moment to compose herself, and nodded. Agent Pollard motioned for her to follow and headed toward the hallway.

"What about me?" Ron asked as Kim walked past him. "What do you want me to do?"

"Stay with my mom and make sure she's alright," Kim replied as she was led out of the room.

"You got it, Kim."

Ron immediately knelt down next to Andrea and placing his arm around her shoulder, while Rufus hopped out of his pocket and went to retrieve a box of tissue from the counter. Despite his sometimes-childlike attitude, Ron had a gift for helping Kim in her times of need. He was also considered by the Possibles to be an unofficial member of the family. Kim knew he could help comfort her mom while she was gone.

---

"Feel free to sit down if you want, Miss Possible," Special Agent Pollard offered, gesturing casually towards Kim's bed as he leaned back against her dresser and crossed his arms.

"Uh, thanks."

"So, is it Kimberly? Or do you prefer Kim?" the agent asked once she had taken a seat on the edge of her bed.

"Kim's fine," she replied. Her voice was calm and steady, having been given a few moments to collect her emotions.

"Okay, well personally, I prefer Sean rather than Agent Pollard. I don't know, it just makes me feel too old when people refer to me by that title. Anyway, I'm sure this is of no comfort to you, but I'm truly sorry for what you're going through," Sean said in a clear and comforting voice that seemed to relax her slightly.

"I appreciate your concern, Sean, but could you please tell me exactly what happened here?" Kim replied.

It was more of a demand than a question.

"Sure," Sean said, clearing his throat before continuing. "From what your mother told us, she and your father were watching television in the living room when the attack happened. Now, we're not exactly sure how or where the kidnappers gained access, but we think it was through an unlocked back door. After they got inside, the first thing they did was throw _this_ into the room."

Sean handed Kim a small clear evidence bag, which contained an object roughly the size and shape of a coke can. It was the same item she had seen the two lab techs collect from the burn mark in her living room. She gasped when she recognized the item as a partially destroyed hand grenade.

"Don't worry, that's called a flash-bang grenade," the FBI agent reassured her. "See, flash-bangs are designed to cause a bright flash and loud bang in order to stun and confuse whoever they're thrown at. The effects are completely non-lethal and only last a few seconds."

Kim breathed a sigh of relief and nodded for him to continue.

"Anyway, as soon as the flash-bang went off, three heavily armed, masked gunmen entered the room. One of the gunmen pushed your mother to the floor while the other two grabbed your father. Your mom got a pretty good look at her captor before he hit her in the head with the butt of his rifle. According to her report, he wasn't wearing gloves. Our crime scene technicians have managed to recover several latent fingerprints from the area, but unfortunately most of them have already been matched to your family members.

"Now, the good news is that these people seem to be well organized. Normally this would be a bad thing, but with kidnappings it usually means the captors will exercise restraint. They know that if their hostage is harmed they'll have nothing to trade for."

"What do you mean _trade_?" Kim asked.

"You see, Kim, this type of thing is all about money. Your father's very important to the space center and there are a lot of people who would be willing to pay good money to get him back," Sean explained.

"So this is a kidnapping-for-ransom kind of thing?" she asked optimistically.

"That's what I'm bettin' on."

"Well, have they called with a demand yet?"

"No," he replied hesitantly, "but it's very common for them to go as long as a week before contacting the family. They tend to get their money faster if the family has grown desperate." He shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, but that's just how it tends to work out."

"But he'll be ok… _right_?" Kim asked, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

"They know that if they hurt him they won't get their money," Sean replied. "Your father's gonna to be just fine. They'll contact us soon, and in the meantime we've got some of the best law enforcement personnel in the country working to get him back as quickly and as safely as possible."

Kim took a deep breath and, for the first time since receiving Wade's message, began to feel better.

"Thank you, Sean," she sighed, smiling up at the federal agent whom, she noticed, looked a lot younger than she had first thought. "Do you mind if I go see how my mom is doing?"

"Of course not, go ahead."

Kim stood and began to leave, but as she reached the door Sean spoke up once more.

"Oh and, Possible?" he called-out.

Kim turned back towards the young FBI agent only to be met with a hardened stare.

"I am well aware of your reputation as a teen-hero crime fighter, as well as your past work with Global Justice. This is, however, a federal investigation and will be handled by professionals _only_," Sean announced, taking a few steps towards Kim and looking her straight in the eyes. "These are _not_ the type of people you're used do dealing with, and any attempt by you or anyone else to interfere with our investigation, good intentions or not, will be met with severe consequences. Do I make myself clear?"

Kim stared back at him with a look of surprise and hatred before silently turning and leaving the room.

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_- To be continued..._

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**Author's Note:**_ Alright, here's the deal. The title should pretty much tell you all you need to know about this; it's a remake of my very first fanfiction, **A Loss of Innocence**. If Hollywood can do it, then why not me, right? Those of you who have read the original have probably noticed some minor changes in the narration and dialogue. While the main plot of this story is not going to change, I am going to be adding some additional depth to the storyline and characters, changing some elements that I came to dislike in the original, and giving it an entirely new ending to better suit its stand-alone status (K/R fans rejoice!). __If you haven't read the original version of this story, don't worry; you'll probably enjoy it even more if it's all new to you._


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**_ Originally, I was entertaining the idea of modifying this rewrite enough to keep it within the T-rated standards. I now feel, however, that to do so would detract too much from the unique and authentic feel of the story. With that in mind, this is going to be the last T-rated chapter in the story; chapter 3 and on will be M-rated, though only due to language and violence... there will be no gratuitous sex, and the swearing and violence that will be present won't be too over-the-top._

_Special thanks to those of you who took the time to review: MrDrP, Classic Cowboy, Canadian Crow, mattb3671, BrattyBrina, and Godhand's Number. And thanks to everyone else who has read this, I hope you are enjoying it._

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Chapter Two

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**_–_** **_Possible Residence_** **_–_**

(_Middleton__, Colorado__ – June 3 05:58_)

Kim awoke the next morning to the gentle sound of birds chirping outside her bedroom window. After a few minutes in bed, she rose sleepily and walked over to the window. Looking out across the backyard, she could see the sun was just beginning to rise over Mt. Middleton and the reflection of the light off the morning dew gave everything a serene glisten.

For a few seconds, she actually smiled and began wondering what she was going to wear to school. Her cheery attitude, however, was instantly shattered by the muffled sound of a police radio coming from somewhere downstairs. She had no idea what was being said, but the clearly foreign dialogue snapped her back to reality like an atomic bomb detonating.

As the events of the previous day suddenly began replaying in her mind, Kim changed out of her pajamas and got into the shower. With the sound of running water acting as a sound barrier from the rest of the house, Kim finally allowed her emotions to catch up with her and began to cry.

At first it was just a silent whimper, but as the images of her destroyed living room and her mother losing control continued to play in her mind, the whimpers soon turned to sobs and she sank to the ground. Pulling her knees up into her chest, Kim allowed her own tears to mix with the steady flow of hot water that was coming out of the showerhead above her.

She had never felt so helpless and useless in her entire life. The fact that her father was being held captive and she couldn't do a damn thing about it was the worst feeling imaginable. She was Kim Possible; she could do _anything_! And yet here she was: curled up in a ball and crying in the shower.

After a few minutes, she began to regain control, and her feelings of uselessness transformed into a renewed sense of determination.

Federal investigation or not, she told herself, there was no way she was going to let some suit-wearing government agent keep her out of the investigation.

Kim Possible was going to rescue her father, whether the FBI liked it or not…

---

Ten minutes later, as Kim made her way down the stairs toward the living room, her thoughts once again drifted back to the events of the previous day.

"_…any attempt by you or anyone else to interfere with our investigation, good intentions or not, will be met with severe consequences,_" Agent Pollard's warning echoed in her head.

'_What was that all about?_' she thought. '_I hope he doesn't actually expect me to sit back and do nothing to help get dad back safely._'

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Kim glanced into the now re-opened living room. The lab technicians had finished processing the room shortly before ten o'clock the night before and, after removing the broken furniture and righting the couch, Andrea had decided to let the police and FBI use the room as their temporary command post.

There were six computers set up on the newly replaced coffee table as well as a high-tech tracking and listening device wired to the phone. Two agents were sitting on the couch quietly discussing the outcome of the previous night's football game, and Ron was asleep on a nearby recliner snoring loudly. It appeared that someone––possibly one of the agents––had tried to silence her friend's snoring by taping his mouth shut with a piece of red evidence tape. The tape, however, was now hanging loosely from his lower lip; allowing Ron to continue his loud snoring unhindered. Rufus was asleep next to him on top of one of the computer monitors.

Kim smiled to herself before continuing down the hall toward the kitchen.

In the kitchen, she found her mom leaning against the sink talking with Agent Pollard, who was seated at the kitchen table. They both had coffee mugs in their hands and, Kim observed with disgust, the agent was drinking out of her father's personal mug.

"Making yourself right at home, aren't you, Sean," Kim said from the doorway.

"Good morning, Kimmie," Ann greeted as her daughter walked into the room.

"Hey, mom," Kim replied with a forced smile, "how are you feeling this morning?"

"A little better," she admitted, gesturing toward the agent. "Sean here says we should hear from them in a few days."

Agent Pollard nodded silently before taking a sip of coffee.

"So I've heard," Kim replied sarcastically. "By the way, where are the Tweebs? I haven't seen or heard from them since yesterday morning."

"Jim and Tim are staying with their friend, Adam, for a few days," replied Ann. "Just until everything calms down around here."

The neurosurgeon finished her cup of coffee and turned to put the empty mug in the sink.

"By the way, Ron is still here. His parents gave him permission to stay here for a few days to help out."

As if on queue, Ron walked into the room with Rufus on his shoulder.

"Morning y'all," he announced with a yawn, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Hey, Ron," Kim greeted, giving her friend a warm smile before turning her attention to Sean, who had begun reading the morning paper. "So, Agent Pollard, you got any updates for me?"

Sean looked up at Kim and took another sip of coffee.

"Unfortunately there's nothing new to report right now," he answered. "As I told you last night we recovered a number of latent fingerprints from the living room. However, we've since matched them all to members of your family."

"So in other words you've got _nothing_," Kim replied bitterly. After his threat the previous evening, Kim had developed an instant dislike for the cocky young agent, and her feelings were apparent in her tone.

"Kimberly Ann Possible, don't be rude!" her mother scolded. She, like most parents, tended to only use her daughter's full name when she was angry with her. "Sean here is working as hard as he can to see that this ends quickly and peacefully."

Agent Pollard gave Kim a conceited smirk before returning to his paper.

"Whatever," Kim mumbled under her breath. She grabbed Ron by the arm and headed off toward the door. "C'mon, Ron, let's get outta here. I feel like getting some fresh air."

"I wouldn't recommend leaving the house right now," Sean yelled to them as they entered the hallway.

"And why is that?"

"See for yourself," he replied, gesturing towards the kitchen window.

Kim and Ron walked back and glanced out the window. Outside, the already crowded street had been completely blocked with the arrival of the media. Kim counted at least five small news vans in front of her house. Though a couple of them were local, most of the others appeared to have come down from nearby Denver. As she surveyed the scene, a large satellite news truck appeared around the corner and pulled to a stop down the street.

"Whoa, even _CNN_ is here," Ron noted as he and Rufus stared out the window, fascinated by the growing scene.

"As you can see, you're probably better off staying here for the time being," Sean announced, walking up next to them and rinsing his cup out in the sink. "Those guys can make _vultures_ seem cute and cuddly by comparison!"

Kim turned and headed back towards the hallway.

"I'm heading up to my room," she announced to no one in particular.

As she left the room, Ron followed, catching up to her at the base of the stairs.

"What's wrong, Kim?" he asked with concern.

"I don't know," she replied with a sigh, "there's just something about that guy that makes me uneasy."

"He seems fine to me."

"I just feel like he's holding something back. I'm gonna have Wade check on some info for me."

Kim started up the stairs but Ron grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Kim, you said Sean told you not to get involved with this. Just let them handle everything!"

"Relax, Ron, I'm not gonna get involved," she reassured her friend. "I just want Wade to make sure they're not overlooking anything."

---

Kim and Ron were upstairs watching TV when the Kimmunicator beeped. She'd put in a call to Wade earlier asking him to do some digging, and she was hoping the request had paid off.

"Hey, Wade, got something?" she asked eagerly.

"As a matter of fact, I do," the twelve-year-old super-genius happily replied. "Remember how Agent Pollard told you that all of the fingerprints recovered had been matched to members of your family?"

"Yeah?"

"Well I accessed the Middleton Police Department's records and found that they recovered twenty-three different fingerprint patterns from your living room last night."

"And?" Kim asked, eager for him to get to the point.

"Well, the FBI only matched twenty-two of the prints. There's no record of the twenty-third one being entered or processed!"

Wade leaned back in his chair and grinned triumphantly before taking a sip from his Slurpster.

"Wade, is there any way you could locate and process the twenty-third print for me?"

"Already been done," the boy replied. "It'll take me some time to get the results back because I had to go through a third-party to have it analyzed."

"You rock hard-core, Wade!" Kim cheered before shutting off the Kimmunicator and turning to Ron, giving him an '_I-told-you-so_' look.

"Just because they didn't run one little print doesn't mean they're hiding something," Ron tried to reassure his paranoid friend. "It was probably just another one of your family members' and they matched it by hand."

"We'll see," Kim said quietly.

---

"It was almost ten o'clock at-night when Wade finally called back. Kim was reading a book titled _Kidnapping Procedures Manual _that she had found downstairs, and Ron was sitting at her desk playing one of the many mindless shooting games he had installed, when the Kimmunicator beeped.

"Wade," Kim greeted, eager to find out what he'd found, "it's about time! What took you so long?"

"Sorry, Kim, but I told you it would take some time to get the results back."

Kim smiled and shook her head.

"Sorry, I'm just getting anxious sitting around like this."

"No big," Wade replied with a grin. "But you're never gonna guess what I found."

"The print doesn't belong to one of my family members?" Kim asked with optimism.

"Nope, it belongs to Officer William Kellerman of the Upperton Police Department."

All of Kim's excitement suddenly drained away.

"_Officer _Kellerman? Then that means… that means it was left by one of the cops _after_ my dad was kidnapped!"

"Don't get upset yet," Wade urged. "Are you ready for some really shocking news?"

"What?"

"Officer Kellerman has been on administrative leave for the past two weeks due to an excessive-force charge against him. His fingerprint should _not_ have been in your house."

"Well–"

"Wait, that's not all," the boy interrupted. "According to his file, Officer Kellerman used to work for the Iowa Division of Criminal Investigation. Do you wanna take a guess as to what his area of expertise was?"

"Let me guess," Kim said with renewed optimism, "he was on a Kidnapping Task Force?"

"Bingo. Apparently he had a fairly good track record until an incident three years ago. For some reason the case files have been sealed, but I _do_ know that it had something to do with the death of a kidnapping victim. Shortly after that incident, Kellerman resigned and moved to Upperton where he was hired by the Upperton Police Department."

Wade sat back and took a sip from his drink, immensely pleased with his own work.

"Well," said Kim, leaving the Kimmunicator on her bed and heading towards her closet, "I think I need to go have a chat with Officer Kellerman."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Kim," Ron said in a concerned voice as his best friend began to change into her mission clothes.

"Ron's right, Kim," Wade agreed. "If he _is_ involved in the kidnapping, he's probably dangerous. I really think you should tell the FBI about this."

"Seriously, Kim," Ron urged, "let the professionals handle Kellerman."

"If the FBI had done their damned jobs in the first place, they would already know about Kellerman's involvement," Kim snapped. She turned toward her friend and he could see that her eyes were burning with rage. "Besides, I need to make sure he wasn't here earlier before we do anything else. They may have called him in as a consultant or something."

Before Wade could argue further, Kim shut off the device and placed it in her pocket.

"Kim I–"

"I'll be fine, Ron," replied Kim, cutting him off. "I'll see you in a little while."

Ron stood up from the desk but it was too late. Before he could attempt to persuade her further, Kim opened her window and slipped outside into the night.

---

–_ **1143 Howe Ave.** _–

(_Upperton__, Colorado__ – June 3 22:55_)

It was almost eleven o'clock by the time Kim arrived at her location: a small single-story residence along a quiet residential street on the eastern edge of Upperton. According to Wade, Kellerman was single and lived alone, so she predicted that he'd probably be alone in the house.

"Thanks for the lift, Mr. Marks," she said, exiting the minivan and turning toward the driver.

"It's the least I could do after you helped my daughter make the cheer squad, Kim," the man responded happily.

"No big, she wouldn't have made the cut if she didn't have the talent," Kim replied before the car pulled away from the curb and disappeared around the corner.

She approached the small ranch-style house and double-checked the address on the wall before pressing the doorbell and waiting for a response. After a few moments, she heard footsteps approaching and the door opened to reveal a man in his mid-thirties dressed in khaki shorts and a t-shirt.

"Can I help you?" the man asked with a slight hint of hostility in his voice.

"I'm sorry to bother you so late," Kim said in a soft and innocent tone, "but are you Officer William Kellerman?"

"Yes."

"My name's Kim Possible, I was hoping I could talk to you for a few minutes."

Kellerman's eyes widened for a moment before he smiled and nodded.

"Of course, come on in," he replied, gesturing for her to enter.

Leading her into his dining room, the man offered her a seat, which she accepted.

"I heard about what happened to your father today," he announced, taking a seat across the table from her. "If it's any comfort, I do have an idea of what you're going through."

"Yeah, I know," Kim acknowledged. "That's actually why I'm here. A friend of mine told me about your experience with the Iowa Division of Criminal Investigation, and I was hoping to get some insight from you as far as what to expect and what I can do to help."

Kellerman shot her a slightly confused look.

"I don't understand, isn't the FBI handling the investigation?"

"Well… yes," Kim replied bitterly, "but I'm beginning to doubt their good intentions. They want us to just sit around and wait for the kidnappers to call; they aren't doing _anything_ to try to track them down."

For a moment, Kim thought she saw a smirk flash across the man's face, but it was gone too quickly for her to be sure. Instead, Officer Kellerman leaned forward and nodded sympathetically.

"I can understand your concern about the way things are being handled, but you should know that in my time with the Iowa DCI, I worked over a dozen kidnapping cases; most of them with, if not under, FBI assistance. Believe me when I tell you those guys may act like they got a broom handle up their asses most of the time, but they're still the best there is. I can also assure you that they will do their best to capture the men responsible for this. They're just waiting for your father's safe return before taking any action."

Kim leaned back in her chair and took a relaxed breath.

"Thank you, it's very reassuring to hear that from someone with your experience."

"Just glad I could help," Kellerman replied with a smile.

"By the way," Kim asked innocently, "are you assisting with the investigation?"

"Uh, no, unfortunately I'm about to leave on vacation."

This time it was Kim's turn to smirk.

'_Gotcha, you scumbag,_' she thought.

Pushing his chair out from under him, Kellerman stood suddenly and pointed towards the other room.

"I'm gonna get a cup of coffee. Do you want anything?"

"No thanks, I'm good."

"Alright, be back in a second," he said, turning and exiting the room.

Once he was gone, Kim stood slowly and took a look around at her surroundings. It was a pretty standard dining room, not much different in its layout than hers in fact. But there was one item of furniture that drew her attention.

In one of the corners, near the entryway to the living room, was a decorated oak cabinet about six feet tall and four feet wide. It had two large glass doors that opened outward and were engraved with various forms of wildlife. Inside the cabinet she could clearly see over a dozen different types of guns. There were about six handguns hanging off of hooks on one side, and an equal number of larger ones, both rifles and shotguns, leaning in a row on the other side.

Kim approached the cabinet and was reaching to open the doors when Kellerman returned.

"Are you a gun enthusiast, Miss Possible?" the officer asked.

Kim jumped and spun around to find the man standing behind her casually sipping his coffee.

"Oh no, I mean yes, I mean…well it's not that I _don't _like guns, it's just that I've never really dealt with them before," Kim stuttered, trying her best not to sound or look too worried.

"No problem." Officer Kellerman replied, gesturing toward the cabinet. "Feel free to take a look if you want. Don't worry, they're all unloaded."

Kim turned and opened the cabinet slowly. It wasn't that she didn't like guns; in fact there was something about them that had always fascinated her. It was just that she would never think of carrying one on a mission. She leaned down and picked up one of the larger guns, examining its weight and beautiful wood construction.

"That's a Springfield M1 Garand," Kellerman announced proudly. "My father carried that very same gun onto the beaches of Normandy, France during the Allied invasion on D-Day. It's a .30-06 caliber semi-automatic battle rifle with an eight-round clip. That model was the standard-issue rifle of the US Army until 1957."

While the man rattled off the gun's specs like an encyclopedia, Kim returned the rifle to its place and looked over the rest of the collection. In the far right corner of the rack, she noticed a smaller black rifle that looked ominously out of place with the other wood-stocked guns. Though she knew very little about guns, this one was hard not to recognize; she had seen it countless times before on the news, carried in the hands of American soldiers overseas.

"Is that an M16?" she asked, not taking her eyes off of the menacing-looking rifle.

"No, that's a CAR-15," Kellerman replied. "It's a civilian model. I was carrying that gun when we took your father yesterday."

Kim's chest tightened and a cold chill ran down her spine. She turned around just in time to find herself staring down the barrel of a small chrome handgun. Kellerman stared at her coldly from the other side of the weapon.

"Do you think I'm a god damn idiot, Possible?" he asked, taking a step towards her and forcing her against the dining room wall. "Did you really think I had no idea why you were here?"

Kim stood still, unable to move.

"Well, I guess I must give credit where credit's due," he said with a smirk. "After all, you obviously found more than the FBI did. Too bad about your dad though."

Kim's eyes widened in shocked horror.

"Oh don't worry, he was still alive last I heard. As soon as we get what we need though, he's a dead man," Kellerman said with a chuckle as he pulled the hammer back on his gun. "Oh well, at least he'll have you to keep him company in Hell."

Kim couldn't believe what was happening. This wasn't how it worked… the bad guy didn't just _kill_ his captive. She had spent three years fighting super-villains and staring down death rays and doomsday devices, and now here she was, staring down the barrel of a gun, about to die at the hands of a madman ten-times more evil that Drakken.

Just as Kim was about to close her eyes and give in to the inevitable, there was a loud crash in the entryway and, before Kellerman could pull the trigger, several individuals in black tactical gear with _FBI_ printed on their vests stormed the room. Before she could react, Kim found herself in the middle of a shouting match between the SWAT team and the crazed officer.

"**_Federal agents; drop your weapon!_**" the lead commando shouted at Kellerman.

"**_Fuck you, you ZOG storm troopers!_**" Kellerman shouted back, holding the gun above his head in a defiant gesture.

"**_C'mon, Bill,_**" another commando pleaded, "**_don't do this, man! Just drop the gun!_**"

"**_It doesn't have to end like this!_**" the lead commando urged the gunman. "**_Just drop the gun, buddy; we can talk about this!_**"

"**_You'll never stop them!_**" Kellerman shouted, waiving the gun around above his head. "**_With Dr. Possible's research, we're finally able to finalize and carry out our purification of the races! No one will stop us…_**" he lowered the gun and pointed it at the commandos. "**_No one!_**"

The lead commando raised his rifle to eye-level and shouted, "**_Hit the deck, Possible!_**"

Due to the direct nature of the command, Kim finally snapped out of her shock and dropped to the floor, covering her face with her hands. Seconds later she heard a single gunshot, followed by several others in rapid succession. The noise was so intense she didn't even realize she was screaming until it was all over.

Before she could make any movements, her arms were suddenly jerked from in front of her face and restrained behind her back with a pair of flex-cuffs by one of the masked FBI agents. She turned her head and attempted to identify herself only to have his knee placed firmly against the back of her neck.

After being cuffed, Kim was yanked upright by the SWAT commando. As he led her out of the room, Kim caught a glimpse of Officer Kellerman's body. The ex-cop was slumped against the wall with several bullet-holes tattooed across his chest. There was also a considerable amount of the top of his head missing: blown off by a well placed bullet just above his left eye. Kim had heard people refer to '_blowing someone's head off_' before but she had never thought it was actually possible. She fought off the urge to vomit as she was led into the living room and shoved onto the couch.

"I thought I told you not to get involved in this investigation, Possible," Agent Pollard growled as he placed his helmet on the coffee table and removed his facemask.

The agent continued speaking, but Kim wasn't listening to a word he said, instead all she heard were Kellerman's words repeating in her head.

"_…__as soon as we get what we need, he's a dead man… at least he'll have you to keep him company in Hell…_"

"Possible, are you listening to me?" the FBI agent barked, snapping his fingers in front of her face and bringing her back to reality.

She looked up at the young agent before he continued.

"I said you're under arrest for obstruction of justice in a federal criminal investigation. You have the right to remain silent; if you choose to give up that right, anything you say will be used against you in court–"

As Sean recited her Miranda rights, Kim once again slipped into a state of shock.

'_How? How could this be happening to me?_' she asked over-and-over.

With her hands still bound behind her back, Sean led her out of the house and down the street to a waiting car.

As he opened the back door, he spoke up once again.

"Oh and, Possible? One more thing," he said quietly.

Kim turned to face the agent but was stopped as he placed her in a chokehold and plunged a hypodermic needle into her neck.

As the syringe emptied its contents into her vein, Kim heard two words:

"_Sleep tight._"

Then there was nothing but blackness…

* * *

- _To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

__

_**Author's Note:** Well look at that, I actually updated my story when I said I would. I don't think I've done that since... ever! Anyway, I know I said this chapter and on would be M-rated, but aside from a bit of language, I think this can still remain in the T-rated category. Let me know if you disagree…_

_As always, my sincerest thanks to everyone who has read this story; especially Classic Cowboy, MrDrP, Theta-Alpha-One, Godhand's Number, mattb3671, cl, Ezbok58a, and GAP for taking the time to leave a review. And a distinguished note to GAP for providing G-Go and me with a few moments of amusement while we tried to figure out who your review was actually geared toward (G-Go won)._

_Having said all that, brace yourselves; you're in for a bumpy ride…_

**

* * *

Chapter Three

* * *

**

– **_Location Unknown_** –

The first thing Kim felt when she regained consciousness was a throbbing pain in the back of her eyes. She'd suffered headaches on a few occasions in the past, but they were never as painful as the one she felt now. As she lay with her eyes shut, she tried to remember what had happened earlier to give her such a terrible pain. After a moment of fuzziness, the events of the previous night began to shoot through her mind and her eyes snapped open.

Bolting upright, Kim looked around frantically, trying to identify her surroundings through the darkness that seemed to envelope her. As her head began to clear, Kim realized that she was actually back in her own room.

She was half-expecting to find herself shackled to the bed, but to her surprise, her arms and legs were free. Standing cautiously, Kim made her way over to her bedroom window and glanced outside.

At first she thought that it was still night out, but as she stared through the glass an unsettling revelation hit her. It wasn't nighttime: there was no Moon, no stars, no street lights, there was… _nothing_! Kim could vaguely make out the top of the elm tree in the backyard, but everything else seemed to be shrouded in some kind of thick black fog.

Hesitantly, Kim started reaching for the window latch when a muffled noise downstairs caught her attention. Warily, she made her way to the top of her stairs and listened. It was hard to make out at first, but as Kim crept down the steps toward the entry hallway the sound began to grow clearer.

It was her mom, and she was crying…

Slowly, Kim made her way down the hall and rounded the corner to the kitchen. The entire room, much like the fog that hovered outside the window, was shrouded in darkness. Following the sound of the sobs, she entered the darkened room and found her mom sitting at the kitchen table.

Though she was facing away from Kim, the teen could see that her mom was hunched forward in her seat, staring at something in her hands.

"_M-mom?_" whispered Kim, walking up behind her mother. "_Mom, what's going on? Why is it so dark out?_"

"You couldn't let them handle it, could you?" Andrea sobbed quietly, refusing to turn around. "You had to play hero, didn't you, Kim?"

"_What?_"

"_He_ told you to stay away," the surgeon hissed. "_He_ told you to keep out of his way… and now he's gone because of you."

Kim stepped forward as tears began flowing down her cheeks. "_W-what are you talking about, mommy?_" she whimpered, reaching out for her mother. "_Who's gone?_"

"Your father," Andrea replied hatefully, "he's dead."

Slowly, Andrea turned her head to face her daughter and Kim let out a startled cry.

Her mother's eyes were _gone_…

Kim reeled back in horror at the sight of her mom's face. It didn't look like her eyes had been ripped-out; it was as if they had never even been there to begin with! Instead of the soft blue eyes she had grown up looking into, Kim found herself staring into two solid-black _sockets_!

Kim was about to turn and flee when she noticed a shadowy figure standing in the kitchen doorway. As she watched in numb terror, Sean entered the room and placed an object roughly the size of a basketball on the kitchen table.

It was her father's severed head…

As Kim felt the bile began to rise in her throat, Andrea retrieved her husband's head from the table and stood next to Sean in the center of the room.

"I knew I couldn't go on without him," her mom explained, cradling the head in her arms like a newborn baby. "I told Sean I couldn't live without my James by my side…"

"_Daddy?_"Kim gasped, falling to her knees on the linoleum floor."_No…_"

"Fortunately, Sean was kind enough to show me how I could be with him forever," Andrea announced.

As Kim watched numbly, Andrea handed her father's head to Sean and extended her arms, palm-up, for her daughter to examine. Even in the near-blackness of the room, Kim could clearly see the three-inch gashes running across both of her mother's wrists.

"It's a lot easier than you may think, especially for a surgeon of my caliber."

"_No…_"

"Just two quick slashes and all my pain flowed out into the kitchen sink."

"_Please, God, no…_"

"_God_?" Sean asked with a laugh. "What the fuck has _God_ ever done for you?" he asked, lifting James' head above his own like some sick religious icon. "Do you think _God_ is gonna bring you back your mommy and daddy?"

"_This isn't happening,_" Kim muttered, tying to muster the strength to crawl away from the sadistic federal agent. "_This **can't** be happening!_"

"Oh it's happening," a horrifically familiar voice spoke-up behind her. "It's happening, and it's all your fault!"

Kim turned her head to face the source of the voice and found herself once again staring down the barrel of a gun. Just as before, Officer Kellerman was watching her unemotionally from the other end. The only difference from the night before was the fact that Kellerman was still sporting the wounds inflicted by Agent Pollard's SWAT team.

"You like what you see, Possible?" the deranged officer sneered as blood flowed from the portion of his skull that had been destroyed by the FBI agents' bullets. "I got this because of you."

"_Please, don't…_" Kim begged.

With a sadistic laugh, Kellerman cocked the hammer on his gun and zeroed it in on the center of Kim's face.

"_Please–_"

But before she could finish her sentence, Kellerman fired…

---

– **_June 4 – 17:05_** –

"Well, you see," Sean explained, readjusting his sunglasses and peering out the driver's-side window of the sedan. "After you graduate from Quantico, it's pretty much guaranteed you're gonna be assigned to work General Crimes for at least a year in one of the Bureau's Regional or Field Offices somewhere in the US."

"And what are general crimes?" asked Ron. He leaned forward slightly so he could hear the agent from the backseat without Sean having to speak too loud.

"Bank robberies mostly," the agent explained. "See, all commercial banks are insured by the FDICor a similar organization, so robbing one is automatically a federal crime.

"After graduating from Quantico, I was assigned to General Crimes in the Philadelphia Field Office. It was a pretty fun area to work in actually; for a while we were averaging about two robberies a week. It never got boring there, that's for sure."

Sean paused momentarily while he guided the car around a slow-moving semi and shifted back into the right-hand lane of the barren two-lane highway.

"So anyway, on my last day with General Crimes, I got a robbery call at a Savings and Loans bank on the south-side of the city. It was a pretty standard case: the guy came in wearing a ball cap and sunglasses, passed the teller a note demanding all the money in the cash drawer, and took off."

"Anyone get hurt?"

"Nah, I think he may have knocked an old woman down while he was leaving, but I can't remember for sure. That might have been another robbery. Anyway, that's not what made the case memorable."

"Why, what happened?"

"After I'd taken witness statements from everyone and retrieved the surveillance tapes to review back at the office, I headed out into the parking lot and threw it all in the trunk of my car. Since one of the Philadelphia PD cars was blocking me in, I decided to head across the street to this small deli and grab some lunch while the local cops cleared-out.

"Well, as I'm leaving the deli with a sandwich in one hand and a Coke in the other, I notice this guy sitting in his car in the back of the lot, examining something in his lap. And as I walk over toward him, he makes absolutely no attempt to hide what he's doing. I peer in the window and there, just sitting in his lap, is a Savings and Loans transfer bag with about a dozen bundles of cash inside."

"No way," Ron gasped.

"I shit you not, man."

"Did he see you watching him?"

"Hell yes he did! He looked up, grinned, and waved at me!"

"He _waved_ at you?"

"The stupid motherfucker _waved_ at me!" Sean replied with a laugh.

Ron shook his head in disbelief.

"He didn't even try to run?"

"Of course not, he had no idea who I was," explained Sean. "I was wearing a suit and tie, so as far as he was concerned, I was just some guy grabbing a sandwich on his lunch break."

"So what'd you do?"

"What do you think I did? I drew-down on him and called over to the half-dozen Philly PD officers who were still hanging-out in the bank parking lot. We took him into custody without an ounce of resistance."

"What an idiot!" Ron said with a chuckle. He leaned back into his seat and gazed out the window.

"Yeah, well, fortunately for us, most criminals are about two cents short of retarded," replied Sean.

"I know what you mean, dude," the teen said with a nod. He leaned forward and rested his arm on the back of the passenger seat. "I remember seeing a clip on _World's Wildest Police Videos_ where this guy walked into a convenience store wearing a wetsuit and a Richard Nixon mask–"

Ron was interrupted mid-sentence as Kim, who up until that moment had been fast-asleep in the passenger seat, bolted upright and began screaming. Ron and Sean both jumped as Rufus, who had also been asleep, woke up and looked around in confusion.

As abruptly as it had begun, the scream stopped and Kim sat sweating and panting heavily as she stared out the front window of the sedan in utter confusion.

"It… it was a dream," she told herself. "It was only a dream!"

"Must not have been a very good dream," Sean commented next to her.

Hearing the agent's voice, Kim jerked her head toward the driver's seat and, realizing who she was next to, recoiled against the door in fear.

"You alright?" the agent asked, reaching over toward the frightened red-head.

"_Don't touch me you psychopath!_" Kim hissed as she slapped his hand away and began reaching behind her back for the door handle.

"It's alright, Kim," Ron said soothingly, reaching forward and putting his hand on his friend's shoulder. "It was just a bad dream, you're safe now."

Kim glanced back at her friend and gasped.

"Ron! W-what are you doing here?"

"Sean picked me up last night," the teen replied calmly.

"Just calm down, Kim," urged Sean. "Your friend's right, you were having some sort of nightmare."

Kim jerked her head back-and-forth between her best friend, and the man who had kidnapped her, before her gaze fell upon the black semiautomatic pistol holstered on Sean's right hip. Before he could react, Kim ripped the handgun from Sean's holster and pointed it at the surprised man.

"_Stop the car!_" she ordered, pointing the gun at the agent.

Though the gun was trembling in her hands, Sean could tell from the resolute look in her eyes that Kim was _not_ willing to negotiate. Reluctantly, the disarmed federal agent guided the car onto the gravel shoulder and brought it to a gentle stop.

"Now put both your hands on top of the steering wheel," the frantic teen ordered.

"Kim–"

"**_Do it!_**"

Slowly, Sean did as he was told, placing both of his hands on the top of the steering wheel.

Without taking the gun off the agent, Kim reached over and yanked the keys from the ignition.

"Okay, Ron," she announced, "I've got you covered, get out of the car and try to flag someone down!"

"What are you talking about, Kim?" Ron asked, staring at his friend in shock.

"It's okay, Ron, I got him," Kim replied, keeping her eyes locked on the frightened agent.

"But… but Sean's on our side!"

"_Our_ side?" Kim jerked her head back toward her friend. "Ron, this psycho is one of the kidnappers!"

"No I'm not!" Sean replied defensively.

"Then what do you call cuffing, drugging, and kidnapping Ron and me?" Kim shouted, pushing the gun closer to his face. "I may not be an expert, but I know that's not standard FBI procedure!"

"Dude, you never told me anything about drugging her," said Ron, eyeing the agent in the driver's seat suspiciously.

"That's because I didn't!" replied Sean.

"**_You stuck a needle in my neck!_**" screamed Kim.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Possible?" Sean asked, baffled by the teen's irrational behavior. "I don't know what you think happened, but–"

"Last night, I had Wade check out a fingerprint that your people overlooked," explained Kim. "There was one print that hadn't been processed–"

"It _was_ processed," the agent interrupted, "just not through AFIS."

"So I went to speak with Officer Kellerman–"

"Which I told you not to do," Ron interjected.

"–and he ended up pointing a gun in my face! Do you have any idea what it feels like to have an irrational person point a gun at you, Agent Pollard?"

"Yeah," Sean replied, staring down the barrel of his own gun, "I actually _do_ have a bit of an idea what that feels like."

"Then, just when I think things are over, you handcuff me, haul me outside, and inject some kind of drug into me!"

"I placed you in flex-cuffs and sat you down on the couch," Sean explained. "I informed you that you were being arrested for obstruction of justice, and I began to read you your rights, but you passed-out! I didn't inject you with anything!"

"Then what the hell do you call this!"

Kim tilted her head and brushed her hair back, exposing the side of her neck where Sean had injected her.

"I don't see anything," the agent replied sternly.

"Uh, Kim?" Ron spoke up, "I don't see anything either."

Keeping the gun trained on Sean, Kim reached up and put her hand on the side of her neck. She rubbed, poked, and prodded the area where she remembered the agent stabbing her with the needle. Just as Sean and Ron had observed, however, there was no trace of any puncture mark.

"B-but, it was right here," Kim said as her hand slowly lowered the gun into her lap. "You were about to put me in the car, and… and–"

"Kim, you'd been through an unbelievable amount of trauma and stress in the past forty-eight hours," Sean explained, retrieving his gun and placing it back into its holster. "The human body can only take so much before it just shuts down."

Kim glanced back at Ron, who nodded and said, "You've been sleeping for over eighteen hours. We're about eighty miles north of Cedar Rapids, Iowa right now."

Kim looked out the window at the barren farmland that seemed to stretch on for miles. "Cedar Rapids? Why are we in Iowa?"

Ron shot an apprehensive glance over at Sean, who sighed and removed his _Ray-Ban_'s.

"I knew the moment I met you that you weren't gonna sit back and stay out of this investigation, Kim," he replied. "Initially, I was hoping that threatening you and withholding information would be enough to keep you in the dark and out of danger. Obviously, I underestimated your abilities."

"My motto isn't all hype y'know," Kim replied coldly.

"Yeah, well, that was a mistake I'm not gonna make again," Sean replied casually.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kim asked suspiciously.

"Ever heard the term '_If you can't beat 'em, join 'em_', Kim?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, the way I see it, if I can't keep you from going after your dad, then I guess I might as well bring you in to help rescue him."

"We got your back KP," Ron announced, patting his friend on the shoulder.

"Besides," Sean said with a slight grin. "I figured you'd probably just break out of any cell we put you in anyway."

"But why are we in Iowa?" Kim asked again.

"I've actually been trying to figure that one out myself," Ron muttered behind her.

"Look Kim, I really can't give you too much information about this investigation-"

"Hey!" Kim interrupted, grabbing the agent's tie and pulling him toward her. "I'm a part of this investigation now, and that means I wanna know _everything _about it!"

After a moment of tense silence, Sean sighed and nodded.

"Fine, wait here."

Kim and Ron both waited in silence as the agent exited the car, walked back, and opened the trunk. After a few moments they herd the trunk slam shut and Sean returned with two manila folders stamped '_Confidential_' in his hand. The young agent looked back-and-forth between the two teens before sighing again and handing the larger of the two folders to Kim.

"The men responsible for kidnapping your father belong to a group known as The New Order of Christ. They're a relatively small, but extremely well-funded and dangerous extremist organization that considers themselves to be an ultra-devout sect of the Christian Identity movement. The New Order, as they refer to themselves, believes they're preparing for a purifying holy war against the federal government and what they refer to as the non-White bands of society.

"African-Americans, Jews, Hispanics, Asians... these people have quite literally reinterpreted the _Book of Genesis_ from the Bible, and see all non-whites as soul-less and as Satan's children. They refer to the US Government as a Zionist Occupation Government, and all federal law enforcement as ZOG storm troopers. They're heavily armed, highly motivated, and are about the closest you're gonna get to a western version of an al Qaeda jihadist. These people do not shy away from violence, even against innocent civilians; they're just casualties of war in their minds."

"ZOG?" replied Kim. "Kellerman used that term last night when your SWAT team stormed the room."

"That's because William Randal Kellerman was a member of The New Order. He was basically like a sleeper-agent: someone put into the law enforcement ranks in order to provide the Order with access to confidential records. That's why we didn't run his print through AFIS: that's the Automated Fingerprint Identification System, which is accessible to all law enforcement personnel."

As Sean explained the group's history, Kim opened the folder in her hands and browsed through its contents. Most of the pages were detailed accounts of the group's activities and history, which Sean was already explaining to them. As she flipped through the pages, she came across a photograph of a man in his mid-40's wearing military fatigues and holding an assault rifle.

"That's Kerry Noble," Sean announced to her. "He's the founder and self-proclaimed leader of The New Order of Christ. He was kicked from the Ku Klux Klan back in the late '70s and spent the next decade rising through the ranks of the Church of Jesus Christ Christian and Aryan Nations up in Idaho, before finally announcing himself a 'Self-Educated Prophet' and founding The New Order of Christ here in northeastern Iowa.

The agent glanced down at the photo in Kim's hands, then back up at the redhead.

"We also have strong evidence to suggest that he was one of the gunmen who stormed your house."

Both Kim and Ron starred in silence at the photo in her hands for several seconds before Kim spoke again.

"So what does my dad have to do with all of this?" she asked, closing the folder and handing it back to Ron.

"We believe they're using him and his research to develop a bio-weapon," Sean stated in his all-too-calm tone of voice.

"I don't understand," replied Kim, "what does my dad know about bio-weapons? He works at the Space Center."

Sean removed his sunglasses and massaged the bridge of his nose.

"Kim, I'm not quite sure how to say this… so I may as well just let you see for yourself."

Sean handed Kim the second smaller folder and gestured for her to open it.

Opening the manila folder, Kim's eyes were immediately drawn to a black-and-white 4x8 inch photo of her father wearing a military dress uniform. Kim didn't know a lot of the details surrounding her father's work at the space center, but she knew for a fact that the closest he had ever come to government work was a research grant that had been awarded to his team by NASA a few years back.

As she continued to scan what appeared to be her father's personnel file, she found one line that stuck-out from everything else.

"Doctor James Timothy Possible: Captain, United States Army?" she read aloud. "What is this? My dad has never been in the military, he works at the Middleton Space Center as a rocket propulsion engineer!"

Kim, your father does _not_ work for the Space Center," Sean replied dejectedly. "He's a bio-researcher for USAMRIID."

Kim stared vacantly at Sean for several seconds before Ron asked, "What the heck is USAMRIID?"

"The United States Army's Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases," the agent explained. "There was a highly classified lab located inside the Middleton Space Center whose purpose, among other things, was to raise and cultivate Level-4 bio-agents for research and weapons development. Shortly after he was kidnapped Thursday afternoon, your father entered the lab, presumably against his will, and left with a sample of a highly infectious and deadly virus known as the RD-484 '_Blackpox_' virus. We believe that The New Order is using James to develop a bio-weapon for them."

Kim and Ron both stared at Sean in complete disbelief.

"What's this Blackpox virus do?" Ron asked.

"RD-484," Sean explained, "is a rare mutated form of Smallpox that occurs in a small percentage of infected victims. It's a hemorrhagic form of the original Smallpox bacteria that's as easily spread as Smallpox, and even deadlier than Ebola. Have you seen the movie _Outbreak_?"

"Yeah," replied Ron.

"Same thing, only without Dustin Hoffman to eradicate it. This bastard is very contagious, and very lethal. It got its nickname from the large black lesions that occur under the skin from massive internal bleeding.

"After the global eradication of Smallpox in the 1970's, the only known samples were kept in high-security labs in the US and Soviet Union. A few years ago, USAMRIID managed to isolate and breed the Blackpox bacteria, and cultivate it into RD-484. Since then, your father and his colleagues have been experimenting with safe methods to kill it, as well as appropriate preventative measures that can be taken in the event of an outbreak of the virus; either accidental or intentional."

"Whoa, that's some pretty dangerous stuff," Ron commented. "And you think these guys used Kim's dad to get a hold of it?"

"I'm afraid so," said Sean, nodding grimly.

"I…I…" Kim stammered as both men turned their attention to her. "I think I need some air!"

She muttered as she opened the door and ran a few feet from the car before dropping to her knees and vomiting into the bushes.

As Ron exited the vehicle to comfort his friend, Sean took a deep breath and slumped back in his seat.

"Christ, what a fucking mess," he mumbled to himself.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

**_Author's Note_**_**:** Howdy, folks! Guess who's favorite cop-turned-US Marshal-turned-ATF Agent is back? Now, I know what y'all are probably thinking..._

"Who the hell is this guy, and why is he talking like I should know him?"

_Or, maybe you actually remember me from back in the days when brand new episodes of **Kim Possible** roamed the Disney Channel airwaves like free-range buffalo. Ripe for the viewing, and shipping, and "_OMG, OMG, are they really gonna hook up?_" message board theorizing. Remember those simpler times? Alas, those days are mostly gone... along with the prospect of sub-10% national unemployment. The legacy of **Kim Possible Fanfiction**, however, appears to have lived on, which is nice to see._

_For those of you who are wondering if there's a reason for me dropping off the fanfic grid for over 4 years... there is... and I won't bore you with the specifics... other than it involved two career changes with the US Marshals Service and Bureau of Alcohol Tobacco Firearms and Explosives, and an investigation that took me downrange to the glorious sand-hole that is Iraq. I can't say that this return necessarily means new stories or updates to my other in-progress fics, **Bailout**, and **Thin Blue Line**, but I can say with relative certainty that I plan on finishing this story, since it's a remake of my very first published work and, I feel, the work I've become best known for._

_So for those of you who came into the fandom after I left in early 2006, this is probably the best story of mine to start with and will give you a good feel for what and how I write. For those of you who are still around (_MrDrP is the only author I've seen and recognized thus far... not sure if he's still interested in this story though_), I hope you can forgive the heinous 4 year hiatus and I promise you the rest of the chapters will be coming in the next few weeks/months. I'd also recommend you go back and reread the first 3 chapters, as I've gone back and revamped them as well._

_And, having said all that... let's blow the dust off this thing and get 'er moving again!_

_

* * *

_**Chapter Four

* * *

  
**

- _**Route 150 Northbound**_ -

(_Near Independence, Iowa – June 4, 17:20_)

Ron didn't know what to say. With everything his best friend had learned and experienced over the past 48 hours, there really was nothing he _could_ say! He couldn't even begin to imagine what Kim had to be going through.

When Kim finished vomiting, Ron walked up and put his hand gently on her shoulder. "It's alright, Kim. You're gonna be–"

"_Don't touch me!_" Kim hissed, slapping his hand away.

Ron stepped back reluctantly and watched as Kim stood up and walked away from him. Once she reached the edge of the gravel shoulder, she sat down and pulled her knees up into her chest. He briefly considered following after her, but figured the respectful thing to do was to give her some space.

With a heavy sigh, Ron turned away from her and began walking back to the car.

"Ron, wait!" Kim called out after him.

He turned and saw her looking back at him.

"I'm sorry. I… I didn't mean to do that."

Kim started to say something further, but stopped and looked down at the ground in shame.

Ron walked back over and took a seat next to her in the gravel.

Looking out across the open farmland that surrounded them, Kim let out a dejected sigh.

"I'm just feeling so…"

Her voice trailed off as she tried to search for the appropriate word to say.

"Overwhelmed?" Ron offered.

"Yeah," Kim responded weakly, staring at the ground.

"That's understandable, KP. I mean, with everything that's happened these past two days: your dad being kidnapped, the feds taking over the case, not to mention that incident with Kellerman last night… I've been having trouble keeping my emotions under control too."

"But that's the thing, Ron, I'm not supposed to get overwhelmed! I'm not some naive teenage girl who's never dealt with danger before: I'm Kim Possible! I'm _supposed_ to be able to do anything!"

"You _can_ do anything! I've seen you single-handedly defeat a dozen henchmen, disable a giant death ray, and disarm a malfunctioning weather machine!"

"And yet all it took was one psycho with a handgun the size of a cell phone to stop me dead in my tracks!"

Kim looked away suddenly as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"He was going to _kill_ me, Ron… no monologue, no tying me to an elaborate death machine and leaving me ample time to escape… he was just gonna put a bullet in my head like he was changing the channel on his television…

Kim looked back at Ron with tears rolling down her cheeks.

"…a-and I was too scared to do a thing to stop him."

As Ron watched his best friend wipe tears from her eyes, he suddenly saw something in Kim that he hadn't seen in years: fear and insecurity. He knew that if he didn't think of something to help Kim regain her confidence, there was no way she could go on.

Without a word, Ron reached over slowly, placed his hand under Kim's chin, and turned her face toward his so they were looking at each other eye-to-eye.

"Kim, we've been best friends since our first day at Pre-K. I was with you on your first mission back in middle school, and, with only a few exceptions, I've been right there next to you on almost every mission since then. I've seen exactly what you can and can't do, I know exactly what your limitations are, and I am telling you, as the one person who truly knows the girl behind the public image, there is nothing about this sitch that you can't handle."

"B-but, Kellerman–"

"Kellerman just caught you off guard, that's all. I mean, look at all the other bad guys we fight: Drakken, Dementor, heck, even Shego are all evil, but they're also kinda predictable. Drakken and Shego aren't gonna pull a handgun on you without warning, that's not their style. It's that over-the-top behavior that makes them super villains. See, super villains wanna win with style, but Kellerman, and these New Order people, those nutcases just wanna win by any means necessary. We're gonna have to approach this one from a slightly different angle, but I have no doubt that you can handle these guys… and I'm gonna be right there beside you to help."

Ron then turned his head and gestured toward the car.

"So is Agent Pollard over there; I know you two have had a kinda rough introduction, but I've been talking to him for the past 10 hours and I'm pretty sure he knows what he's doing. His area of expertise isn't kidnapping like he said earlier… it's counter-terrorism. And if half the stuff he's told me is true, the guy's, like, practically the Navy SEAL of the FBI."

Ron gave his best friend a warm smile, which seemed to calm her somewhat.

"You are the best there is, Kim," he reassured her. "And you've got the second best here to help you out."

Kim dried the last remaining tears from her eyes and allowed a slight smile to creep onto her face. Then, without a word, she leaned in and kissed Ron.

---

"Christ, what a fucking mess," Sean muttered to himself as he watched Ron walk over and try to comfort Kim, who was hunched over and vomiting in the bushes.

The agent tossed his sunglasses up onto the dashboard and, glancing into the rearview mirror, noticed Rufus staring back at him. The molerat was perched on top of the back seat and had a look of disapproval on his face.

"What?" Sean asked defensively. "Hey, she _wanted_ to know; I figured it was only fair to give her all the info!"

Rufus just shook his head and crawled over toward the window.

Sean was just getting ready to get out of the car and walk over to check on the two teens when his cell phone he had clipped to the visor began to ring. He reached up and hit the speaker button before slumping back in his seat and returning his gaze to the two teens on the shoulder of the road.

"Agent Pollard," he greeted, emotionlessly.

"_Yeah, no shit it is,_" a snide female voice replied through the phone's speaker. "_When are you gonna stop answering your phone like a cop and just give a good old fashion 'hello'?_"

Hearing the voice on the other end of the phone, Rufus spun around and let out a low growl, which Sean ignored.

"Look, Shelly, now is not the fucking time for your teasing, alright? I'm not joking!"

"_Jeez, sorry, what's got your panties in a bunch?_"

"It's this goddamn case, Shelly. It's starting to fall apart faster than I can get it organized."

"_The Princess not taking it as well as you thought?_"

"Well, I just had the pleasure of telling her that her father, the man we're trying to rescue, has been lying to her for the past eight years about what he does for a living," Sean replied. "So now we're taking a little break here on the side of the road while she throws up in the bushes."

"_Well that's not too unreasonable of a reaction._"

"Yeah, well the vomiting came _after_ she snatched my gun and forced me to pull the car over!"

There was a brief silence on the other end of the phone, before Shelly began laughing.

"It's not that funny from where I'm sitting, y'know."

"_But it's hilarious from where __**I'm**__ sitting!"_

Sean let out a loud, frustrated sigh, and returned his gaze to the two teens who were sitting next to each other on the side of the road.

"She thinks I drugged her…"

"_Who?"_

"Who do you think? Possible… she woke up screaming; snatched my GLOCK and accused me of injecting something into her neck to knock her out before throwing her into the car!"

"_Well… did you?"_

While still joking, there was a level of sincerity in the question that angered Sean.

"Jesus Christ, Gourse, what the fuck do you take me for!?"

"_Whoa, relax!"_ Shelly replied, defensively. _"I was mostly joking."_

"Do you really think I'm the type that goes around drugging 18 year old girls?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end.

"Oh, fuck you too," Sean replied in a sarcastic tone. "I didn't drug the poor kid. You know my thing with needles; I can handle arterial bleeds and guts fine, but the moment a hypo or IV comes out, I start sweating. And besides, that's CIA shit. "

"_Yeah, yeah… you're a pansy, I know."_

Sean slumped back in his seat and let out another sigh.

"Maybe I am throwing them into the deep end here…"

Taking the hint, Shelly decided to change the subject and get down to business.

"_Where are you guys right now?"_

"Ninety miles south of Oelwein; about an hour away at the speed I drive."

"_Good, you guys are making excellent time. I've already made arraignments for you at the Super 8 just south of town."_

"Awesome, thanks, Shelly," replied Sean.

"_Don't thank me yet,"_ said Shelly. _"There's a regional golf tournament going on in Oelwein right now. The good news about that is that there are a lot of out-of-towners, so you three won't stick out too much."_

"And the bad news?"

"_Well…" _Shelly hesitated for a moment. _"I literally booked you guys the last available room, so you three are gonna have to make do with only 2 beds."_

Hearing the news, Sean groaned and once again turned his gaze to the two teens sitting outside the car.

"Shelly, how exactly do you expect a twenty-eight year old federal agent and two eighteen year old teenagers to share _one_ room with _two _beds?"

"_Easy,"_ replied Shelly, the level of sarcasm already noticeable in her voice. _"You and Stoppable just flip a coin. Then, whoever wins decides who gets to be the big spoon, and who's the little spoon."_

"Gee, thanks for the advice."

"_I do what I can."_

Sean looked back at Rufus, who was eyeing him suspiciously, and then glanced back outside just in time to watch Kim lean in and kiss Ron.

"Huh…"

"_What?"_

"Oh, nothing," replied Sean. "Don't worry about the arraignments; I'm sure we'll be able to work something out. I'll give you a call when we're ninety-seven in Oelwein."

"_Alright, take care, hon."_

"You too, babe," Sean replied before reaching forward and ending the call.

---

Ron froze as Kim grabbed and kissed him. His mind, as well as his heart, was racing.

Was Kim really kissing him?

Was this just due to the stress she'd been through, or was this something else?

And why was he so excited about this?

Before he could fully react, Kim pulled away; a look of shock and embarrassment plastered on her face.

The two teens stared at each other in stunned silence for several seconds before Kim broke the silence.

"I…uh…I think I'm alright now," she said, standing up and brushing off her pants. "C'mon, let's get going."

Kim turned and walked sheepishly back towards the car, and Ron suddenly found wandering to places on her that he'd never really taken notice of before.

"Um, yeah… coming, KP."

They both got in the car just as Sean hung up his cell phone and clipped it back onto the visor. Kim was hoping the agent hadn't seen her kiss her best friend, however as soon as she saw the slight grin Sean was trying his best to conceal, she knew she was busted. Trying her best not to blush, Kim retook her seat next to Sean while Ron slid in behind them.

"You ok now?" Sean asked with a slight level of concern in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine," replied Kim. "Who were you talking to?"

"That was a friend of mine from the NSA."

"NSA?"

"National Security Agency. They're working with us on this operation and we're going to meet up with one of their agents tomorrow in Oelwein, Iowa."

"That's where we're heading right now," Ron added.

"That's right," affirmed Sean. "We got a hotel room booked and waiting for us there. Tomorrow morning, we're switching cars, picking up our equipment, and getting both of you armed and set up with some basic weapons training."

Sean's use of the term "operation" worried Kim, but she was more anxious about the other term he had used.

"Armed?" asked Ron, as if reading Kim's mind.

"Yes, armed," replied Sean.

The agent pivoted in his seat so that he was facing both Kim and Ron.

"As you're now well familiar, The New Order is not a bunch of Boy Scouts. They're heavily armed and will not hesitate to _kill_ any of us, including your father. The NSA Agent and I _will_ be armed for this operation and we've made the necessary arrangements for both of you to be armed as well."

Sean glanced over to Ron, and then returned his gaze to Kim.

"I'm not sure if Stoppable told you yet, but I'm not on the FBI's Kidnapping Task Force. I'm the Supervisory Special Agent for the Bureau's Domestic Counter-Terrorism Task Force.

The confused look on Kim's face told the agent he needed to elaborate further.

"In a nutshell, that means I make a career out of investigating and combating these types of radical separatist groups and militias that operate within the US. I know every group out there that deserves to be known; I know how they operate, I know what they're capable of doing, and I have the training and backing of the US government's best resources to combat them when needed.

"Now, in a perfect world, I'd prefer to resolve this whole situation without any further loss of life; however I will _not_ hesitate to use deadly force in order to ensure that every one of us, including your dad, comes back alive, and that The New Order's bio-weapons capability is completely eradicated. If you can't handle the way I work, then I can always take the alternative and I'll return you to federal custody."

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but Kim stopped him.

"Sean, I _am _well aware that this New Order of Christ group is a level of evil that neither of us have dealt with before," Kim replied, gesturing to Ron and herself. "I'm willing to do whatever I need to in order to get my dad back safely. If the rest of this group's followers are anything like Kellerman was, then I suppose your methods _are_ the only way to do that."

"Kim…" Ron began to speak, but she kept talking.

"In the past, I've been able to rely on my unarmed fighting skills to defeat my enemies. But in the past, my enemies have never been heavily armed religious fanatics either."

Kim turned and looked at her friend.

"Ron, I'm going to do what Sean feels is best here; even if that means the potential of having to use a gun. I'll understand if you don't want to do this."

"Kim, Mr. Dr. P– er, your dad, is practically my second father," Ron replied without hesitation. "Besides, when have I ever said 'no' to a mission with you? I'm with you till the end, you know that."

Kim smiled at him before turning back to Sean with a serious look on her face.

"We're in."

Sean nodded and brought the car back onto the road.

"Alright, we should reach Oelwein around seven. Tell you what guys, tonight, dinner's on me."

Ron and Rufus both grinned at the idea of free food. Kim meanwhile, seemed to have a look of confusion on her face.

"What's wrong, Possible?" asked Sean.

"It just doesn't make sense," replied Kim. "My dad's involvement in all of this, I mean."

"Well, like I said, they want his research to turn the RD-484 into a potent bio-weapon."

"No, I mean, _that_ I get. It's just that… well, I know my father; his exact work at the space center might have been relatively unknown to me, but I still saw some of the work he brought home and heard him speaking with others at the center. He _was_ a scientist! I don't understand what place he has in the Army's medical research division."

"Truth be told," replied Sean, "I don't know all the details about what he was doing with USAMRIID other than the briefing I got from his commander. However, I do know his connection to the RD-484 pathogen had something to do with a 'Project Hephaestus' that your father initially developed for the Space Center about a year ago."

"Wait, Hay-what-sus?" asked Ron.

"Hephaestus," replied Sean. "It had something to do with nano-cybertronic technology. The kind of thing you practically need a PHD just to understand. Whatever it was, it had the ability to self-replicate, like a robotic bacteria. Apparently from a bio-weapons standpoint, all you have to do is add your favorite pathogen… Anthrax, Ebola, RD-484, you name it… and the Hephaestus will both protect the pathogen for airborne delivery, as well as spread it on its own, without the need for the pathogen to incubate inside a body before being spread.

"USAMRIID apparently saw this potential, and they employed Dr. Possible to come up with a way to effectively destroy the Hephaestus in the event it was deployed against them."

"So, he wasn't building bio-weapons?" asked Kim, a slimmer of hope evident in her voice. "He was helping to destroy them?"

"That's right, and if it's any further comfort, his military commission is largely ceremonial; I don't think he's ever gone through basic training or officer candidate school."

Kim sat back in her seat and stared out across the farmlands that stretched out from the road.

"Well," she said after a few moments of silence, "I guess that helps a little bit… to know he didn't lie about _everything_ in his life."

Neither Sean, nor Ron could think of an appropriate response to that comment, and the rest of the drive to Oelwein was occupied by silence.

---

– _**Super 8 Motel**_–

(_Oelwein, Iowa – 18:53_)

Kim, Sean, and Ron arrived at the Super 8 motel just before 7:00pm and decided to check in and use the bathroom before setting out again in search of food. It was Ron, of course, who first noticed the hitch in their accommodations.

"Um…where's the third bed?" he asked, eyeing the two queen-sized beds in the middle of their hotel room.

"Unfortunately the federal government's budget is stretched pretty thin these days," replied Sean, an overwhelming volume of sarcasm evident, "so they could only spring for _one_ room with _two_ beds. I hope you two don't mind sleeping together."

Ron and Kim both gave each other a quick glance and blushed, which caused Sean to laugh.

"Hey, just kidding guys. You two take the beds; I'll sleep in the chair here by the window."

He gestured to one of the two padded chairs sitting next to the window.

"You don't have to do that," replied Ron. "I mean, I can sleep on the floor if you want."

"Nah, it's cool. I spent about 3 months on loan to the TSA after the subway bombings in London, so I got very used to sitting and sleeping upright on non-stop transcontinental flights."

The two stared at him as if he was nuts, but Sean just shrugged.

"Hey, when your day consists of flying from New York, to Los Angeles, to Boston, to Seattle, and then having to start the next day on a flight out of Miami, then a bed is non-existent; my only chance for sleep was on the flight from Seattle to Miami, or Chicago to San Diego."

Sean chuckled and shook his head.

"In three months with the Federal Air Marshals Service, I probably slept in a normal bed 5 times."

"So… I _don't_ have to sleep on the floor?" asked Ron.

The amused look on Kim's face effectively answered his question.

"Well," Sean announced, clapping his hands and gesturing towards the bathroom, "if you'll excuse me, I gotta take a shit."

Kim shot him a disgusted look, which he ignored.

"Hey, Stoppable, why don't you check the phonebook for some places to eat; nothing too fancy, but I'm not gonna rip you guys off and take you to Denny's either."

Before he headed towards the bathroom, Sean unclipped the holster from his belt and placed it on the dresser between Kim and Ron.

As Rufus and Ron searched the phone book for a dinner location, Kim found herself staring at the black semiautomatic inside the holster. She hadn't realized it at the time, but earlier in the car was the first time she had ever held a pistol, let alone pointed one at somebody.

Perhaps even more disturbing, she realized, was the fact that in a day or two, there was a very real chance that she'd be doing it again.

---

– _**The Sportsman Restaurant**_–

(_Oelwein, Iowa – 19:35_)

The waitress had just delivered their drink orders when Kim spoke up.

"So, Sean, how did you get into this type of work anyway?"

"What, law enforcement?"

"Yeah, law enforcement, FBI, Domestic Counter-Terrorism, how did you achieve all of this by the age of…"

Kim paused.

"Wait, how old _are_ you?"

"Twenty-eight," replied Sean.

"That still seems pretty young to be as experienced as you seem to be," said Kim. "It seems like a lot of people are barely out of college by your age."

"Well, it started when I was a freshman in high school; the local police department in my town had a cadet type program that allowed kids my age to experience what police work was all about, and I decided to give it a try. It was mostly just office work and ride-alongs at first, but as I got older I gained experience and began doing more fieldwork. When I turned eighteen, I began taking night classes at the police academy, and shortly after that, the chief hired me as a Reserve Police Officer and assigned me to the Friday night graveyard shift. I worked as a reserve up through my first semester of junior college–"

"Whoa, wait," Kim interrupted, "that was all while you were still in high school!?"

"Well, the Cadet stuff was," replied Sean. "The reserve stuff started the summer after graduation. Anyway, in college I started taking classes in Criminal Justice; because of my years of experience in the field I was always at the top of my class. This attracted the attention of one of my instructors, who happened to have a good friend in the FBI. After a few lengthy conversations with him and some recruiters, I was hired by the FBI right out of college at twenty-three."

Kim stared in awe at the man sitting across from her. She had always thought of _her_ life as fast paced, but it was nothing compared to what Sean's seemed to be. She suddenly found herself feeling slightly jealous of the young agent's accomplishments.

"While at Quantico," continued Sean, "the instructors took notice of my marksmanship skills on the shooting range, and my interest in domestic terrorist groups. Upon graduating, I was immediately sent to FLETC in Glynco, Georgia, and run through an advanced weapons training course. From there I was temporarily loaned to the TSA during their personnel surge following the attacks in London, and then assigned to one of the General Crimes Divisions within the Bureau.

"From there…" Sean paused for a moment, "I don't know; one thing just led to another, and before I knew it I was supervising other agents within the Domestic Counter-Terrorism Task Force."

The agent sat back and took a sip of his drink just as the waitress returned with their food.

"Wow, that's impressive," Ron said before digging into his cheeseburger.

"Yeah…" Kim stated, absently.

With some obvious exceptions, Sean's life didn't seem all that different than hers.

'_Teenage crime-fighter, above average student, is this where I'm going to be in four years?_' thought Kim. '_I guess that's not necessarily a __bad__ thing, I just never thought of my work as progressing anywhere._'

She pushed the thoughts out of her mind and focused on more important matters; specifically, the sirloin steak sitting in front of her. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since she had eaten and the urge to shove the entire thing into her mouth was almost overwhelming. Fortunately for her pride, she was able to control her urges.

---

–_**Super 8 Motel**_–

(_Oelwein, Iowa – June 5 01:45_)

Kim rolled over and tried for what seemed like the thousandth time to fall asleep, but it was still no use. She opened her eyes and focused on the clock beside her bed; the digital readout glared back at her: 1:45am.

'_Great…just great,_' she thought, '_I've gotta be up in three and a half hours, and I can't get to sleep!_'

Kim's insomnia was being caused by a number of factors: the fact that she had already gotten over sixteen hours of sleep the night before didn't help, nor did the fact that her father's safety rested solely in her, Sean, and Ron's hands, as well as the hands of some unknown NSA agent who was meeting them in a little over _three_ hours.

Beyond that, however, the thing that was bothering her more than anything was her little 'roadside kiss' from the day before. She couldn't get the idea of kissing Ron out of her mind.

'_It wasn't like it was the first time I've done it,_' she attempted to rationalize.

'_Yeah, but last time you were under the control of Dr. Bortel's Moodulator,_' another part of her brain argued back. '_Yesterday's kiss was done entirely by free will._'

'_Well I __was__ under a lot of stress,_' She retorted, '_that's kinda the same thing._'

'_Get real, Possible–_'

Kim interrupted her own argument by quietly getting out of bed and walking over to the window.

As she passed Ron, who was fast asleep and snoring, she suddenly found herself smiling, which only confused her more. She tried to focus on another topic, _any_ other topic as she reached the window and sat down in the empty recliner next to Sean.

She checked to make sure the young agent was asleep before once again letting her eyes fall on her sleeping friend.

_Was_ it the stress, or was it something else?

She thought back to that evening the previous October, after she had overcome the chip's power, and Ron had nervously asked her if the crush was all the Moodulator's doing.

"_There's still fireworks,_" she whispered to nobody in particular.

Like all the other events of that day, she had attributed _that_ comment to the Moodulator as well; some type of residual emotional instability she had assumed. Now, however, she was beginning to wonder.

"Can't sleep, Possible?'

The redhead jumped at the sound of Sean's voice.

"Oh! Um, yeah… I just got a lot of things on my mind; that's all."

Kim hoped Sean hadn't heard her fireworks comment, or noticed whom she was staring at, but as usual, she soon realized that was not the fact.

"I can see that," Sean replied with a slight grin, he was looking at Ron as well.

"Oh, uh… no! I wasn't thinking about _that_. That was just an emotional thing… y'know, from stress… we-we're just friends."

Even though she'd said it several times before, for some reason, that last part seemed unusually foreign to Kim.

Sean's grin turned into an evil smirk.

"Kim, I didn't say anything about that."

"Well, I…"

Kim tried to defend herself, to reassure him it wasn't what he was thinking, but she quickly gave up.

Even in the dark, Sean could see her blushing.

"You want some advice, Kim?"

"Uh yeah…sure."

She wasn't sure how much valuable advice she could get from someone who, as far as she could tell, was single himself, but she was willing to do anything to break the uncomfortable silence that had engulfed the two of them.

"You and Ron have been best friends for about fifteen years, right?"

"Yeah, ever since Pre-K."

"So what's wrong with becoming romantically involved with each other?"

Kim was shocked with the direct nature of the question.

"Because we're _just _friends," she replied forcefully. She would have yelled it, but she didn't want to wake Ron.

"You're _obviously_ more than 'just friends'," Sean shot back.

Kim started to argue, but he cut her off.

"Think about it, Possible, you spend almost all of your time together: going to school dances, movies, festivals, not to mention your 'crime-fighting' work. You know damn near everything about one another, including your faults, and you manage to function perfectly as a pair."

Sean stopped talking as Ron suddenly shifted in his sleep. They both sat in silence for about ten seconds, until Ron began snoring again.

"Anyway," Sean continued. "Do you know why most relationships fail?"

"No," replied Kim.

"Because the couple fails to become compatible with each other. You see, most relationships began with physical attraction: you see a guy or girl who's relatively good looking and you decide to talk to them. After physical attraction, the couple moves into romance; this requires a little bit of compatibility and an ability to spend time together without driving each other crazy. Once these two steps are accomplished, you move into love.

"Now, true love is accomplished when both partners are able to understand and accept each other for who they really are, faults and all."

Sean paused and looked over at Ron.

"Usually, relationships and marriages fail because one or both partners have false expectations of what their relationship is all about. They enter into it expecting something that isn't there because they don't know everything about one another."

Kim said nothing, although Sean could tell from her expression that she was deeply processing what he had to say.

"You and Ron have a major advantage over most couples y'know."

"How's that?" asked Kim. Her tone of voice was that of curiosity, rather than defiance.

"Because you've already got the compatibility part nailed. That's the hardest part, Kim. With that handled, the rest is a piece of cake, trust me."

Sean leaned back against the chair, satisfied with his words of wisdom.

"But…"

Kim leaned in and lowered her voice, despite the fact that Ron was still under the covers snoring.

"How do I know _he _even feels the same way I do?"

Sean's smile was the widest she had ever seen it.

"Kim, you're forgetting that Stoppable and I were in the car together yesterday for well over ten hours before you woke up. There are a lot of things that can get shared when it's just the guys talking."

The realization of what he was implying hit Kim like a semi truck.

"You think you're the first one I've talked to about this?" asked Sean. "Where do you think I got this impression in the first place, from one kiss on the side of the road?"

Kim's heart began to race.

'_If what Sean says is true, then that means Ron…_'

She glanced over at the eighteen-year-old sleeping less than ten feet from her. This time she didn't care that Sean noticed her smiling.

"Well, now that I've resolved that dilemma, why don't you try to get some sleep."

He would have reminded her to consider what he had told her, but he could already tell that his words had gotten through successfully.

"Thank you," said Kim. Her voice was warm and sincere.

"Glad to help," Sean replied with a smile, displaying a softer side of himself that Kim had thought was non-existent. "Now get to sleep, we wake up at 05:30."

Kim nodded and quietly headed back to bed. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

* * *

_To be continued..._


End file.
